Rabbit Season
by GBJosh
Summary: A family of 7 rabbits are ripped from their home and forced to survive in the cruel snowy, outdoors of Canada's rugged north. They battle starvation, predators, blizzards and fatigue just to stay alive, just to keep their family from crumbling to death.
1. Prologue: Hardship Ahead

**Rabbit Season**

Prologue: Hardship Ahead

Newfoundland homes mild summers with bearable temperatures and the elderly and overgrown conifer forests which ransack the province are also the prime environment for rabbits. The forests sprout many berries for them to feed off and the ever green trees and moss flourish low to the ground which hides the rabbits from predators while plucking berries and seeds to nibble on with utmost security. Rabbit fur, generally white in Newfoundland, can be excellently camouflaged against the pristinely white snow, making it difficult for even the deadliest predators to spot a fleeing rabbit. While winters rarely dip negative fifteen degrees below, the island, surrounded by the frigid Atlantic Ocean, is prone to violent and sharp winds, devastating blizzards and feet and feet of hard and relentless snow. Perhaps the worst part is how quickly these weather changes occur; one minute it could be calm and sunny winter's day, and the next minute the sky is strewn with foreboding clouds coating the entire earth in the sky's thick entrails. Also in the winter, predators are constantly alert for any sign of tiny prey and all the nourishment for the island's rodents are buried deep beneath pounds of snow making food limited.

Bears, eagles, hawks, lynxes, owls, martins and foxes are amongst the animals which avidly feed on the province's thriving rabbit population. Each adapted with traits to hunt and survive the island's haphazard climate. Versatility-wise, the lynx is the most efficient predator. Lighting fast reflexes backed up by brutish muscles, keen and cat-like smell, hearing and sight, and to top it all off, equipped with unforgiving claws and a grip of solid steel which can spill the blood of any rabbit with ease.

*

It was late October and already the early signs of a blistering winter were evident: semi-frozen earth, sudden plummeting temperatures and stripping trees. In the outskirts of a vast and tangled coniferous forest lived a rather large family of rabbits whom inhabited a den below the trunk of a once-grand, but now dying maple tree.

Gaston was the only survivor of his mother's litter. He had lived with his mother, Coco, and his father, O'Hare, since birth. They'd always lived in the same den, in the same patch, in the same forest and in the same province—Newfoundland and Labrador. Gaston is outspoken and blunt; he says what is on his mind when he feels like saying it. His moods sway like the rocking of the Atlantic. Never knowing how Gaston will react to what you say, it's wise to watch your tongue around him. Although ignorant at times, he is a devoted, selfless parent and his love for his entire family is unquestionable. Brimming with pride and honor, Gaston is easily insulted. Though behind that exterior is the heart of a god.

Gaston's spouse, Dotty, was raised from a massive family on a rabbit farm on the island's opposite end. Eventually, everyone in her family was slaughtered and used as food for the farm family. Luckily for her, Jennifer, the farmer's daughter, took a fancy to Dotty's round eyes and cute cotton tail. After much pleading from Jennifer, the farmer spared Dotty and she was domesticated as Jennifer's pet—her best friend. When Jennifer's family moved across the island, they took Dotty with them. For years and years Jennifer had loved Dotty, until one day, Jennifer spontaneously decided she was far too old for a rabbit and Dotty was released into the wilderness. That's where she and Gaston had met; locking eyes amongst a blueberry bush, it was love at first sight. Unassuming, things easily faze Dotty and she is effortlessly tricked. Down-to-earth yet complex, Dotty finds it difficult to lie and even more difficult to enforce discipline. Her past has deeply wounded her heart and she is susceptibly vulnerable because of this. Her kin are always before her, though, a truly loving mother. Her children are her life and she is not afraid to show it.

Gaston and Dotty went on to have four children. The first born was Hunter, and ironically enough, he was caught in a snare trap set up by a hunter and was killed almost instantly as the snare's metal grinded his bones. It was years until the grieving couple decided they'd try parenting again and, due to Dotty's severely traumatic past, Hunter's early death stirred the memory cauldron to the brink.

Dotty first had twins: Genji and Tiffany, and they cannot be more different. Despite this, the two rarely bicker and you'd never guess they were siblings because their rivalry is so humbled. Like many twins, they have a mental connection which is misunderstood by all outside the pair; things such as always knowing the other's moods.

Tiffany is a spunky, vain and one could even go as far to say arrogant. She is the first to jump to conclusions and her love for drama causes issues within the family. Her loyalty to her brother is undoubted, though, as well as his to hers. Genji is constantly collected and not very easily excited. The first to volunteer berry-picking duty, Genji is courageous and incredibly nimble. Never opinionated, Genji follows general order and waits for demands to be given to him instead of seeking them solo. Often finding himself lost or useless without orders, Genji is prone to loafing about the den and doing bar-none an entire day.

Their final child is Bunnie. The youngest of the den, Bunnie is often viewed as the family's baby kit and obviously so due to her naiveté and innocent charm that seems to ooze from her fur. Living the harsh and strenuous life of a rabbit has drained Bunnie of some of the typical juvenile behaviors of a creature so young. Naturally curious, she dives head first into trouble without realizing their true hazards. Escaping the danger's grasps due to her family's watchful eye, Bunnie has remained unscarred and adorable.

*

Shyly, the early morning rays of the sun crept down into the rabbit hole. Coco stuck her head from the den's hole and to the outside. Her tail swiveled intuitively yet the remainder of her body remained immobile, chiseled with concentration. After a few more seconds, she scurried back down the narrow trail and into the den's living room; a collection of pebbles and dirt following her down the slope.

The wrinkles in her face revealed the experience of her life, the wisdom she had to share and how cunning she really was. Like a façade, Coco's visage did not reveal her true age nor did it advertise that she was an elder not to be underestimated or taken for granted. The truth of Coco lied deeper and proclaimed that she was, indeed, an elder to be reckoned with and not discarded. As she approached O'Hare and Gaston, her wrinkles were furrowed.

O'Hare knew this was indeed a bad sign. He adjusted himself on the grass cushion he sat on and prepared for his wife's telling, trying to keep his eyes to himself until she spoke.

To his shock, she said nothing, but stiffly walked to the bookcase right past Gaston and him. O'Hare exchanged a look of bafflement with his son.

"Don't tell me, my dear wife, that you think after 40 years of marriage I know not when you're upset,"O'Hare said endearingly. "Please tell us what's on your mind."

She firmly clasped the book shut and put it back into the bookshelf.

"Ma?" Gaston urged on, turning his head to look at her. "C'mon! What's the matter?"

She bit her lip as she turned to face them.

"I fear this season's winter." Coco's expression was still scrunched.

"We'll muck through it, Ma, like we always do!" her son cried nonchalantly.

"We're going to need more than that this winter, Gaston," she spoke sternly. "Already the ground is freezing and I've noticed that our berry patches are browning quicker than ever before! The trees tell of misfortune as well. They're stripped bare and it is not even Halloween."

Both O'Hare and Gaston knew this much was true. Gaston's toes stung of coldness as their den was already coated with a very slight layer of ice.

"Coco, we'll prepare early!" O'Hare exclaimed. "Genji, Gaston and I can run out every dew-rise and collect every berry in sight! While you and Dotty weave thicker blankets from the grass we'll gather! Even little Bunnie can help, we'll make a game out of it and she can stick along the den and pluck."

The aging rabbit bunched the back of her dress in her paw. She hated how simple her husband made everything sound, regardless of how complex it was in reality.

"It's not that easy!" Coco cried, suddenly succumbing to her frustration. "The grasses, mosses and berries are disappearing, shriveling at the havoc of this premature winter! Since yesterday I can already notice they've plummeted in amount or withered; every strand of grass acres from our den is brown and wispy, useless to weave even into the most meager of quilts!"

There was a creak of a door opening from down the hallway, followed by wary footsteps. Dotty walked out from around the corner.

"What is going on here? You three are disrupting the children's sleep. It is still too early for them to be awake…" Dotty's voice was sluggish, she had just woken up.

Bunnie's large eyes and ears poked out from behind Dotty's shirt.

Seeing her granddaughter, Coco morphed her expression instantaneously.

Without saying a word or making a sound, Coco walked from the bookcase, past O'Hare, then Dotty and down the hallway to her chamber. She lovingly ran her hand through Bunnie's hair as she past—the children could not know of the dilemma.


	2. Chapter One: Gather, Gather, Gather

Chapter One: Gather, Gather, and Gather Some More

It was mid-November now and this afternoon's forecast was thick and low-laying overcast with a chance of showers. The rabbit family were frantically preparing for the winter ahead as it had begun quicker than anticipated, not to Coco's surprise.

*

"BUNNIE?!"

The little rabbit popped her head up from the grass, her eyes glassy as she thought she was in trouble.

"BUNNIE?!"

She waved her arm in the air. "Over here, Mama!"

Dotty whipped herself fully around. Her expression loosened as she saw her baby rabbit was alright. She approached her awkwardly as she had tufts of grass stuck underneath her arms.

"Bunnie, you cannot disappear like that!" Dotty scolded.

"But Maaaa! You told me to go get some livin' grass and that's what I was doin'!" Bunnie scuttled around a bit in the towering vegetation, while still only her head was visible. She raised her arms high in the air and in them were nine strands of luscious, green grass. "See, Mama! I did what you told!" Her expression was scrunched at the effort it took to hold her arms that high.

Dotty sighed. "You did well, baby. You had me worried, that's all."

"Well don't fret, Mama, I am safe."

"You're dangerously close to Morne Forest! Just past that big oak tree and you'd likely to have been killed!"

Bunnie peered over her shoulder and at the massive oak tree which sprouted only a few feet from backside. "Oh, Mama, there are no hunters out THIS early…"

"You're right, no hunters, but Pappy O'Hare said he saw a lynx pack and a few martins prowling. They know not to go on our side of the oak, but you should be cautious none the less!"

Bunnie again vanished in the tall, dying grass.

"Bunnie? Bunnie?!"

"I'm on my way out, Mama, calm down!" the little rabbit's voice was muffled by the vegetation engulfing her.

A subtle crunch followed the footsteps of Bunnie and as she burst from the grass, dead pieces clung to her clothes and hair.

Dotty giggled and gestured her daughter over. When Bunnie stopped before her, Dotty began brushing the grass from her anally.

"Come on, Bunnie, we'll go back to the den now…" The mother rabbit trailed off while pushing her child in front of her.

It was a two minute hike from Morne Forest's tree line and their den. The two rodents made it there rather quickly as the winds were picking up and they didn't want to be caught up in a storm.

Bunnie entered first. Tossing her small grass bundle down before herself, the little rabbit stumbled in and continued to stumble the entire way down. Dotty winced as she watched her child fall; she scuttled down after her with much more discretion.

The little rabbit quickly clambered to her chamber at the very end of the hallway, neglecting her grass bundle which was carelessly thrown at the den's entrance. Dotty exhaled deeply and snatched up her daughter's findings, then discarded their grass in the giant pile in the living room's corner.

Coco was nimbly working away. Her hands moved across the weaves like lightning as she fastened grass strands into each other. A neatly stacked pile of her pillows leaned against the chair she sat upright in.

Coco smiled at her daughter-in-law and pat her hand on the idle stool beside her. "Come, sit. I could use your help making some more blankets, rugs and pillows."

Dotty obeyed and sat beside her. Scooping some grass into her paws on the way to the stool. "I may make some hats and mittens… it looks like you have the pillows covered."

The grandmother rabbit nodded slowly, her face moving with the snaps and rolls of her wrists.

"What's this?" Dotty asked, poking at a basket bulging with presents: nuts, seeds, wool, berries and water. All of which was topped off by an elegant, pink bow.

"A present from Doc," Coco said, her voice hastened as she struggled to get a small end of grass through an even smaller hole. She went to talk, but stopped as a cough found its way up her throat. "His niece, Pippy, dropped it off, though. She said it's a winter warming basket. It will surely come in handy," she finished once her cough diminished.

"Oh, that's wonderful! We'll have to drop by Doc's den tonight for a visit… that man is so generous."

As the two girls got serious into their weaving, their conversing ceased.

"So, how was your trip?" Coco asked plainly after minutes of comfortable silence.

"Oh, that Bunnie! She is a piece of work; into this and that, as always. I swear one of these days she'll get her tail bitten off by an owl and not even realize it!"

The corners of Coco's mouth curled. "Typical Bunnie."

As Dotty just finished her first hat, she held it out in front of her, observing her work. She laid it by her feet and scooped up more grass from the now-dwindling bundle.

"Where are the boys?" Dotty asked, referring to Gaston, Genji and O'Hare.

Coco bit her lip as she burst a string of already woven grass. "They're still outside collecting berries and nuts for the winter."

Dotty shifted in her stool and angled her head so she could peer out the hole to the outside.

"Oooh. I hope they make it back soon… the clouds look menacing this afternoon and the winds were getting strong just as me and Bunnie were coming in."

"Yes," Coco agreed quietly, "There shall be a storm tonight."


	3. Chapter Two: We're Not Alone

Chapter Two: "We're not alone."

Gaston had no luck finding anything and he was beginning to grow agitated. The three began their venture with an upbeat air about them, overturning boughs and leaves with a bouncing rhythm, but as Gaston found nothing more and more frequently, his rhythm was bitter, like the wind biting at his heels. Genji rustled obnoxiously in a bush behind him and that too was working away at Gaston's waning patience.

"Genji, stop making so much noise, you're going to attract other animals," he snapped as he overturned the branch of an ever green tree only to find a drained and fruitless blueberry bush. "If a little stupid squirrel hops along here, tryin' to take the berries we found first… I swear…"

"Yes, sir," Genji obeyed emotionlessly.

"Genji, I am your father, feel free to treat me as one oppose to a drill sergeant."

There was no response. Genji had either not heard him or not understood what he meant. Either way, Gaston rolled his eyes and cynically continued his search, his arms and legs shuffling with begrudge now.

A sudden gust of wind made Gaston cringe; it stung his face and his bare feet, driving the whiskers of his moustache harshly into his skin. He walked out from beneath the looming ever green branch and to the open field. He glanced up at the sky. Overcast reigned; the bearer of misfortune and gloom and completely impervious to sunlight.

He knew they should return soon. Staring down at his feet, he spotted an idle blueberry covered by golden-brown grass and dirt. As he knelt to pick it up, another gust hit him. It blew the grass in his face; driving it into his mouth and eyes. Spitting and swearing, Gaston jumped to his feet while stuffing the berry into his pocket—his one and only find all day.

The entire scene around him began to whir; constant flashes of orange, golden and brown. The wind rustled the naked and near-naked trees, causing their warm colored leaves to twirl to the ground, and the ones already on the ground, to flutter weakly at his feet. The deceased reed plants swayed vigorously as Gaston scurried back to Genji.

The younger rabbit bellowed in bewilderment as the wind rattled every plant around him, and as his paw dove at an acorn but the wind swept it further away.

"We gotta return home soon, son. There is a storm abrewin' and our hoarding is hopeless."

"You may not be having any luck, but I got plenty!" Genji exclaimed somehow remaining monotone. He stuck out both his hips to emphasis his brimming pockets. "What did you find?"

"A blueberry: a single, solitary blueberry. Almost everything is dead!" As Gaston cried over the wind's raising howl, he looked around for his father.

It was at that exact moment when O'Hare galloped from a field of tall grass, his features distressed.

"Pa, what's wrong? Do you feel the storm too?" Gaston said as O'Hare ran toward him and his son in a frantic state.

"I'm afraid the storm is not our immediate concern!" O'Hare spat between heaving gasps, lowering his head and creasing his back. "We're not alone…" he panted and while continuing to do so, O'Hare elaborated as neither his son nor his grandson understood. "I spotted a pack of lynx; a mother and her three newborns! They were perched amongst the bottom of Mt. Morne while I was scavenging for nuts. I am sure the mother saw me, as her eyes darted in the direction of the tree I was under!" O'Hare rarely panicked, but when he did it was a good indication there was grave trouble afoot.

"No, it's too early for lynxes to be out. Are you certain that's what it was, Pa? Or were those ancient eyes playin' tricks on you?" Gaston's eyebrows arched with an arrogant skepticism.

"Am I one to kid? No. I know what I saw and it was a pack of hungry lynx!"

Meanwhile, Genji was staring off into space completely unfazed by it all.

"Well, if you DID see lynx, we're fine! Mt. Morne is forever from here. Plus, we were just going to head back, anyway. Genji and I searched Morne Forest's tree line dry and I don't want the storm to start while I'm out."

O'Hare nodded frantically; his eyes were widened with unforeseeable danger.

"Pa, calm down. Our den is two or three minutes from here. We'll be fine."

Gaston waved his paw in Genji's face.

"C'mon, spacecase, we're headin' ho—" The remainder of Gaston's sentence was cut off by howl, a howl which echoed throughout the open field and in the heads of the three rodents.

All three rabbits froze, their faces tensing up and their movements freezing.

"No… one… moves," O'Hare muttered gravely, his entire face numb with fear, his eyes whipping from side-to-side in their sockets.

Gaston inconspicuously moved his head around O'Hare's. He could now see the one-way trail which led into Morne Forest. The outskirts of the trail was overrun with fern plants, many of them towering feet above even the tallest of rabbit. At the very end of Gaston's vision, the curve of the trail, he saw a spotted, gray animal lunge from the ferns; leaves erupting around it.

The mother lynx.

Higher pitched and more juvenile growls followed the mother lynx as her three kittens staggered out onto the trail as well.

"Gaston… is it the lynxes?" O'Hare asked, his voice trembling, not turning to check for himself.

Not so much his head moving as his eyes, Gaston nodded subtly; his expression seething with sudden dismay.

"Run? Run? Run?" Genji stammered, his question all one big slur.

O'Hare did not respond, he was staring dead ahead down into the forest opening. Like the forest itself sensed the imminent danger, the grass didn't sway and the treetops didn't rustle, their roots in the ground constricted with panic.

Beads of sweat streeleddown O'Hare's face; hitting the grass below them once rolling from his chin.

"Gaston, are they looking?"

No, they weren't. All four mammals were occupied with something across the trail from them—the children frolicked in the ferns while the mother watched, licking her paws clean, grazing in the grass.

Genji squirmed nervously and his feet fidgeted. Gaston watched as an acorn surfaced from his stuffed pocket, as it was pushed to the pocket's brim and as it tumbled from Genji and plopped to the pebbles below, clanking at their feet.

Immediately after, Gaston's eyes shot to the lynxes. Still, the three kittens played—batting each other with their paws—but the mother was frozen; her tail erect, her ears alert and her powerfully-yellow eyes watchful.

"Yes… the mother is staring down at us…" Gaston's lips formed the words poorly, stumbling over the simplest of pronunciations as his body quivered with overbearing terror.

Gaston found it hard to remain frozen any longer. His legs wobbled and his jaw began to chatter.

"Run?" Genji repeated again, the word a guttural murmur.

"Yes," Gaston replied, not caring for what his father thought of the matter.

Hurling his body the opposite way of the forest's trail, Gaston broke away from the trio's circle. The sound of crushing grass and the beating of feet pounding in his ears, Gaston ran as fast as he possibly could toward a nook in a maple tree which was nearing dramatically with every passing second. Then, the wind picked up, his speed and its growing energy bawling twisted laments into his ears. It blew against Gaston, driving him the other way and the coldness whipping him across the face, striking his body with a sting.

Genji suddenly thundered past his father, his legs a blur against the ground and his arms flailing everywhere. Then, Genji tripped, faltered, nosedived into the dirt. Gaston watched with horror as it happened. He landed face first, he skidded painfully against rocks and pebbles—which sprayed out around him— mere feet from the maple tree's safety, as if fate spat in his face and was now laughing hysterically at his inevitable doom.

Gaston was devastated, the wind inciting the tears, this sad sight open the valves of his tear ducts. His son had to get up, he had to make it. He wondered if the lynx was pursuing them, or even if she had caught on there were three delicious slabs of vulnerable meat and bone before her nose. Alas, he had no time to check. For if she was chasing them, she would be hot on their trail and a spared second would not lead to a spared life.

Guilt suddenly washed over Gaston, hitting him like a tidal wave. Where was his father, where was O'Hare? Gaston abruptly began to run and did not give his father time. What if he was murdered, his reaction time not up to par, and as he stood blankly in the gravel as his son and grandson bolted away, he was preyed upon, the lynx crushing him alone with her mere weight. What if the only reason the lynx mother was not ripping him and Genji apart was because she was busy grinding O'Hare father between her blood-lusting teeth, no doubt the spoiled lynx kittens squealing behind her, waiting to dive in for a taste of their own.

Gaston snapped out of it, and just in time to realize he was now at the nook and that Genji had already recovered and made it in too. Diving into the narrow hole, Gaston hit the tree's inside with an unwelcoming thud then a face plant into the tree's wall.

At least he was safe. At least he and Genji were safe… No. Where was O'Hare?

"Genji!! Genji?!" Gaston roared at his son. "Where is O'Hare?! What happened to your grandfather?!"

Genji was still panting heavily. Blood ran from his forehead and down the rest of his face. He opened his mouth dumbly, not knowing the answer, his eyes wet and cold like that of a maniac.

There was a crash and then a piercing screech—the entire tree which the two rabbits were using as refuge rattled, the dirt specs at their feet jumping to their knees.

Gaston gravely turned his head to face the nook's hole, and when he saw what was on the other side he wrenched backward and threw himself up against the tree's farthest wall.

The mother lynx.

Only her eyes, nose and mouth visible, she had herself pressed up against the tree. Her golden eyes gleamed sickly yellow, seeping with malice; they penetrated Gaston's soul and made him flinch eternally. Just above her nose was a scar. It was thick and pink, and the patch around the scar had no fur.

Gaston lashed his arm out at his son and yanked him beside himself, so they were both as far from the predator as possible.

The lynx snapped her jaws and viciously pressed her opened snout against the nook's hole. Her mouth was too wide to reach in, but instead her slimy tongue flopped out and threshed almost like a snake against her pointed, yellow fangs—her breath seething from her gritty throat, a vengeful wave of death shrouding them, the odor so potent.

Gaston clenched his eyes shut, turned his face to the side and pressed his body as tightly away as possible. Then, the odor disgraced his nose for too long. An odor so putrid and off-putting it singed Gaston's nose and caused warning vomit to feint up his throat, but then stagger back down. Swallowing back the searing vomit—it sloshing around between his teeth, coating them in grit— Gaston and Genji came face-to-face with it: the stench of blood, flesh and bones.

The relentless mother gnawed on the bark surrounding the nook—revealing the dripping insides of her mouth and the remainders of a feast which slid around her tongue and teeth like maggots about feces.

There was a snap. The lynx had pried a large chunk of the tree off and was now crunching it between her vice-like jaws, her eyes flashing as she wrenched her head to and fro.

Genji's heart ripped from his chests as he succumbed to the feeling of helplessness and broke down. Crumbling against the tree's wall, he sank to the ground and began to bawl. Gaston was overwhelmed. Not only by the lynx's attempts to eat them, but at his son's sudden sadness surge; never before had Gaston seen him cry and he was poor at comforting.

Another snap, another chunk of the tree. More of the lynx could be seen now; there was just enough room for her to slip in her paw. In it came.

Genji's cries steepened, he threw himself up against the wall as she batted her paw numbly against the tree's inside.

Luckily for the two rabbits, she could not get past her wrist and that was enough for them to be saved from her grasp. She growled at her futility and with her paw still jutting through the hole, began again to rip away at the wood.

Another snap, another chunk of the tree and another free inch where her arm slid in further—that inch was just enough. Gaston found himself wrapped up in the paw of the mother lynx, Genji weeping and worthless inches away.


	4. Chapter Three: Glorified Huntsmen

Chapter Three: Glorified Huntsmen 

His vision blurred and his breathing eradicated. The lynx's paw tensing around his body, each time he would breathe—choke—his body would shudder shallowly and break out in crushing agony with blanketed every each of his skeleton. Gaston felt like he was going to die. The rancid breath of the lynx stung his face and her squeeze around Gaston's body was practically oozing with deep, hungry desire.

Gaston tried to squirm from her grip but found himself useless—his entire torso entrapped by her paw he could do nothing but holler, and that was twisted, its echoes, strained with futility, ricocheted around the tree's inside. So, he did. At first at his son, who was escalating into a hysterical knot quicker than before, his limbs like mindless, aimless worms and his head a bobble toy shedding plastic tears. Useless. Cruel pain sat in his ribs as he tried to scream. His chest being constricted, it dragged his screams out into rough gasps and wheezes.

The lynx moved her arm back and forth within the tree, struggling trying to get it out. She grew frustrated, and the simple moving turned to wrenching and Gaston's body bobbed viciously and painfully as she would not let go.

"GENJI!! GENJI!!" Gaston bawled at his son, the strength to muster the screams writhing and panging from the depths of his lungs, all the way up the trachea, and out the mouth. He did not know why he was calling out to his him. What could Genji do, throw himself at the paw and then get the two of them snagged in her clutches? No. The best thing for Genji to do was stoop there and watch as his father was tossed and clamped left to right and then inevitably feasted upon, soon after the happy and hungry yelps of the baby lynx ripping his father apart creeping to his ears. Genji would then know he was next and sit in festering dread.

So, he cried out for anyone else's help. Thinking of the grieving and desperate family he would leave behind, Gaston wailed out for the help of anything that was willing to spare his life, to spare him from Morne's wickedness. And quickly after that his prayer was answered.

First, the lynx's thrashing and longing gurgles stopped. She froze completely. Then, there was the sound of sputtering gravel and frantic footsteps. After that, a metallic click. Then an earth-shattering bang which disturbed Gaston to the point where he wet himself—hot urine trickling down his leg.

Blood speckled his face from the hole—the sour blood of the lynx. Her grip spasmed; first clenching Gaston until he thought his ribs would snap right then and there, then after a shrill squeal, her paw crumbled and Gaston dropped to the tree's inside, the urine splashing around him.

The lynx's paw whipped out of the hole with sudden ease.

There were more sounds of sputtering rocks followed by howls and then more hastened strides which faded in Gaston's ears as moments drifted into seconds. Scrambling to his feet, Gaston took his sniveling son by the ear and the two dove into the corner furthest from the hole. Filled with intrigue, both rabbits huddled together with their ears perked and alert; interested with what ever was happening but too petrified to look outside the tree, what ever had happened to frighten away the mother lynx was terrifying, and there was only one thing more powerful than a mother lynx with hungry kittens: humans.

Another clanging click. Gaston and his son gulped, they knew whatever caused this click resulted in the lynx spilling her blood.

Alien voices and sounds erupted from the outside.

"Christ almighty, Dean, that there lynx c'n run like the winds!"

"Yes, b'y, Riley, almost got 'er, though! I wonder what in the blazes she and 'er babies were tryin' to get!"

Gaston recognized them as the voices of humans—hunters. Genji was baffled. Crying now from sheer confusion and shock, Gaston clamped his paw around Genji's in an attempt at getting him to quiet down, never had he seen his son so unsettled.

"I know you're scared… but you need you to be silent, just until the hunters leave."

Genji blinked and nodded vaguely, his eyes distant as if in another world, his pupils causing the color in his eyes to fleet, filling them with darkness.

The sound of crushing leaves approached their refuge; it rang throughout the hollowed out nook replaying their impending doom continuously. Genji cringed; he buried his head in his father's lap.

As the sound approached, as did ill wheezes; Gaston guessed the hunter was either sick or overweight.

The hunter brought his hands to the grass and lay with his stomach flat against the ground, the strands of golden grass which his breath rustled waving in and out through the nook's opening.

"Lard sufferin'! Dean, wadda ya doin' down there?" called the other human, his voice much further away.

"Seein' what them lynx was after, it could be good fer a stew!" This hunter's voice rattled the insides of the tree, making Gaston's hair stand on end and the tree wince.

If the humans were to find them, there would be no where to run as they were blocking the only way in or out. Gaston's family again flashed before his eyes as sweat pooled on his forehead.

"I'm sure it was only a bloody ol' squirrel, leave the creature be and let's head back to your place! These two deer are enough fer now, b'y!"

"Meat is meat! Margaret needs some small game for some stew, I told ya!" grunted the nearer human.

A faint pitter-patter enshrouded the cowering pair of rabbits—it began to rain.

"DEAN!!" boomed a voice amongst the rain. "It's gettin' starmy 'n I don't wanna be out 'n it! Now, c'mon! We'll head back out tamorrow fer Margaret!"

The nearest hunter—Dean—rest on his knees while muttering sailor swears beneath his breath. Snatching up his gun from the crusted pile of leaves—their brittle moans sounding—he strolled over to his buddy.

Only when the two humans' voices were out of range did Gaston and Genji lose their tenseness, even them, the air in the nook was teeming with its undertone. Genji's ears swiveling in their sockets, he divulged to his father he could hear nothing at all. Gaston nodded in wary agreement.

"Do we leave?" the smaller rabbit asked, his eyes still devoid of color, the expression on his face as helpless as one Bunnie would display.

Gaston bit his lip, his eyes darting toward the hole. "It seems safe outside, but I am wondering about your grandfather…"

Genji shrugged in indifference.

"I suppose, the hunters said they had two deer and nothing else. If your grandfather is not back at the den when we return, I will seek him until the wee hours of the morning."

Just a nod from Genji.

"Hmm," Gaston said looking at the ground around him. "Re-gather your berries and nuts, and then we'll go back to the den…"

As Genji sprawled himself about, foolishly gathering what he had dropped in fear of the predator, his mind could not bend around what the boom was.

"Hey… Pa"—Gaston smiled, Genji had called him pa—"What was that boom that made the lynx mother flee? It sounded like the mighty clap of thunder!"

Gaston was wondering the same thing. He had not the faintest idea of what had scared away their attacker. All he knew was that the humans controlled the power, and that indeed they were prowling Morne and its outskirts already. He thought back to the blood which sprayed his face and the terrified yelps of the mother and her lynx kittens.

"I am not sure, son…"

By the time the two anxious rabbits stepped out of the tree, the rain had escalated and the winds were fierce. As they both pounded their legs faster than ever before back to their den, the rain washed the lynx's blood from Gaston's face as well as his concern for O'Hare—he knew his father well and his father was too smart to be caught by a mere lynx or human. He was definitely resting back at the den with a mug of green tea in his hand telling nighttime stories to Bunnie. But, something more foreboding panged in the back of Gaston's skull, something that wasn't so assuring.


	5. Chapter Four: Spared Lives

Chapter Four: Spared Lives and Delayed Gratification 

"…Maaamaaa!"

It was the shrill cry of Bunnie. She came scampering from her chamber with her stubby arms outreached and open. Dotty bent downward from her chair and picked her child up in her arms. Altering her voice to a soothing coo, Dotty ran she fingers over her daughter's forehead.

The conversation Dotty, Coco and O'Hare were having would have to be saved until later. Bunnie was susceptible and her fragile mind couldn't hear tell of what O'Hare was divulging.

O'Hare was still breathless and panting. His fur was just drying of the water as he got home just as the rainstorm had started. At Bunnie's sudden presence, he tried his best to conceal his bloody paw from the girl.

"What's wrong, Bunnie?" Dotty asked, looking into Bunnie's glossy eyes.

"T-T-Tiffany…" the baby stammered. "She told me Pa and Brother were ated by wolves!"

All three adults frowned. Coco wordlessly stood up, gently laying down her near-woven pair of mittens, and disappeared down the hallway after rustling the tuft of up-sticking fur between Bunnie's ears.

"Grandma is dealing with Tiffany, Bunnie…" Dotty whispered in her ears.

Bunnie ears perked and her sad face was immediately washed over with a devious grin. She knew Tiffany was going to get in so much trouble.

Within seconds Coco marched out from Tiffany's chamber with her paw clamped firmly on her right ear.

"Stop it! Lemme go! What are you doing?!" the adolescent rabbit groaned as she was stood before her mother.

The wrinkles in Coco's face were furrowed and when Tiffany saw this she stopped the charade.

"OK… sor—"

Coco cut her off.

"—What are you doing feeding your impressionable, little sister such lies? You knew she would take you seriously! What did you think would happen telling her that her family was eaten by a pack of wolves?!"

Tiffany popped her hip and rolled her eyes. "I said lynxes."

"What?" Coco snapped, the word rolling from her tongue sharply, the impact of an arrow.

"I didn't say they were eaten by wolves, I said lynxes."

"It-It doesn't matter! Don't you understand that this is nothing to gawk at?!" Coco wiped her eyes with the neck of her shirt.

O'Hare could not believe his eyes. Never in his years of marriage with his wife had he seen her break down into tears, she was such a sturdy woman.

"I'm sorry, Grandm—" Tiffany began, outreaching her paw for a hug.

"Bite your tongue, child!" Coco bawled, steady tears running from her face. "The danger of their lives is REAL! You don't joke about such horrible things! We can't afford for them to die! It would doom this family, don't you understand that?!"

Bunnie was shivering in her mother's arms, her shirt wet with tears.

"Look what you've done…" O'Hare muttered, taking off his hat and running his paws through his hair.

With her hands shielding her face, Coco bolted past Tiffany and down the hallway into her chamber. There was a slow click of her door shutting.

"B-Bunnie, please get off mommy…" Dotty said quietly while standing from her chair, she too was crying.

"Mama, what is wrong, why is everyone crying?!" The littlest rabbit began to cry, succumbing to the grave emotion in the den. Like a potent virus, it brought the cry-count to three. "Is Papa and Brother dead?!"

As Dotty took off down the hallway in a teary mess, Bunnie staggered after her choking back sorrows of her own.

O'Hare buried his face in his paws. "Look what you've done…" he repeated again, except this time Tiffany heard.

All that could be heard now was the tapping of rain droplets and obscure crying from down the hallway. Tiffany adjusted her shirt, guilt chiseled into the lines of her face.

"Tiffany, you do realize this is a serious situation, right? We don't know if your brother and father are alive…" O'Hare said, looking up at his teenage granddaughter and urging her with his eyes to sit.

Tiffany stayed resistant. "YOU might not know if they are alive, but I do," Tiffany said haughtily.

O'Hare cracked a skeptic's smile. "Oh, yes, and how do you know this? How about you enlighten me? Tiffany, please. You owe each one of those rabbits an apology. Your mother is so scared for their lives and your arrogance is only upsetting her further." He hated sounding so dreadful, but it was the only way to pound things into Tiffany's skull; she was just like her father in this aspect.

"She has no reason to be crying! Genji is ALIVE!" Tiffany waved her head and hands in the air.

"I'd like to believe that, we'd all like to believe that."

From the other side of the room, rocks and mud sloshed on the den's bottom. Trailing behind it were the golden-furred ears of Gaston. He dropped to the ground, and without saying a thing, plopped onto the couch completely sapped of breath.

Scrambling in soon behind Gaston was Genji; his pockets bulging with berries and nuts.

O'Hare sat aghast with sheer bliss. Meanwhile, Tiffany stood with her arms crossed and her hip popped.

"Told you!" Tiffany snapped, extending her arms to her brother.

Genji immediately ran to her. The two embraced half-casually.

Tiffany scrunched up her nose, and when Genji pulled away, Tiffany stood with her back pushed away and her arms hung over. "You're dripping wet and you smell as foul as the backside of a bald eagle…" Tiffany smirked. "Go get a wash!"

Genji smiled dumbly at his sister, and then pushed the contents of his pockets onto the table.

Before the rattling of Genji's findings settled, Tiffany burst out.

"Brother, you've gotten so much!"

She nimbly ran her paw over the things to count them.

Gaston leaned over. He and his father shared a solemn, brief hug, but you could tell their love was there. Next, he walked over to Tiffany and opened his arms.

She distorted her expression. "I'm enthralled you're home, Pa… but I am not hugging you until the lake is drained from your sorry hide." Tiffany's voice rang with playfulness. Instead, she kissed her paw and placed it on Gaston's forehead. "Happy you're alright…buuuut—"

"—She knew you were alive!" O'Hare cried, cutting her off quickly.

Tiffany rolled her eyes.

"Coco, Dotty, Bunnie… we have some people here to see you!" O'Hare cried down the hallway.

Bunnie's excited screech could be heard clearly from behind the sealed door of her chamber. "PAAAAAAAAAAA?!"

Tiffany's ears swiveled downward. She clapped her paws on them, clenched her eyes and bit her lip. "Ohhh, why does she have to be so loud all the time?"

The slapping of Bunnie's feet avidly running down the hallway echoed. She burst past Tiffany, O'Hare and Genji, heading straight to her father with her arms opened and her face lit up. Bounding off her hind legs, she leapt into Gaston's arms.

Gaston held his daughter up and let his face settle warmly. "Glad to you see, hunnie."

"Ohhhhhhh, me too, Papa! Tiff told me the wolves gots you out in Morne Forest!" The tiny rabbit burrowed her head in her father's shoulder, sparing no time to tattle. "I know you're smarter then to go in there, though… I was just s-so worried…"

"Suck up," Tiffany scoffed under her breath.

O'Hare heard. "Quiet down, Tiffany. If you're going to get cynical, you can stay in your den for the remainder of the night."

Gaston smirked. "Cool it, gramps, Tiffany's only kidding, right, Tiff?" he said.

Tiffany nodded, smirked back and plunked into an idle chair.

Dotty and Coco soon came down the hallway; both with glistening trails from their eyes down to their cheeks.

"You're alright…" Dotty spoke slowly. She broke off and ran to her husband. With Bunnie squat in between, the two rabbit's embraced.

"MAAAAAAAAA!" Bunnie's muffled cry sounded. "You're sandwhichin' me here!"

"Get down now, Bunnie. We're heading over to Doc's and you need to change your dress before…" Dotty said sternly, raising Bunnie from her father's clutches.

"Buuuuut, Maaa! I wanna wear THIS one to Pippy's!"

"It's filthy and wet from being up with your father. You can't look uncouth when we're visiting, hun, and you know that!"

Bunnie whined a little before realizing it was futile—soon after she stomped into her room. Gaston soon followed his daughter down the hallway and into his chamber to change too, and to inspect the blood on his face. Dotty went in after him, to talk in privacy about what had happened outside.

The rabbits mulled over the findings sprawled across the table. Coco stored them into some jars beside Doc's gift basket.

"That won't be enough…" Coco muttered once Tiffany and Genji exited the room. "We're going to need to get together and hoard what ever is left before snowfall."


End file.
